Pies Poem by JOE POEWHIT
Pies
The rain has just ended.
I myself inside feel bended.
Into the yard I'll creep.
Out the back door, by the sweep.
There the dirt hill, road fleet.
With shovel, this dirt to keep.
I'll make Mommy a sweet treat.
Mix some water, with puddles meat.
On the floor to place them neat.
Right by Mommies golden feet.
Neat little pies in a row.
Only to help Mommy, cook and sew.
from my book: DREAMS
JESUS SAVES
My favorite chore as a child. All those mud pies. Very good write.
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5/4/2024 10:41:01 AM # 1.0.0.1119
What a special child you were. They were the best kind Joe. Not all children are allowed to make mud pies, but you and I must have been the lucky ones. Great write Joe. top marks Karin Anderson